


Turbulence

by TheIttyBitty



Series: Company [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Companion Dean, M/M, Science Fiction, Sex Worker Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIttyBitty/pseuds/TheIttyBitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Castiel makes a grave mistake, leaving him a wanted man, he's forced to flee the planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> This part... is weird. It didn't really come out like I wanted at all, which is why it took so long :/  
> I really, really hate publishing it when I feel like it's sub-par, but it happens. At least you're not paying to read it, right?  
> Anyway, there's no sex in this chapter either, but i'll try and put it in the next one. 
> 
> **GLOSSARY**  
>  \- Companions are a little bit like escorts, but I'm basing them off of the [Companions from Firefly/Serenity](http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Companion's_Guild). They are well-educated, trained, and well-respected.  
>   
> \- "Silver-Blood" is the term for someone who has magic. They can be distinguished by silver markings that appear on the inside of their arms. Usually magic manifests at puberty, but occasionally it has to be forced out (by losing one's virginity). They are often in government, or other generally high-paying jobs  
>   
> \- The Alliance. The government, based heavily off of [ The Alliance from Firefly/Serenity](http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Union_of_Allied_Planets).  
>   
> \- The Core. The core planets, closest to the seat of Alliance. They have the cleanest planets, best food, most money, best support from the government. But they are also closest to the eye of the government, which not everyone thinks is a good thing.  
>   
> \- The Rim. The outer planets. Most of them are colonized by small groups of pioneers. Many of the outer planets are not doing well, do to atmosphere/lack of food/lack of law/etc. But many people find it a small price to pay to be so far from the watchful eye of The Alliance.

 

 

Things have been going well for Dean for a while, maybe not perfect, but pretty damn well. He got off his crap planet, managed to get into a good Companion Academy, and makes a pretty good living despite the fact that he's had less training than a lot of others. So, he supposes that maybe his luck has finally run out.

It must have, right? Otherwise he definitely wouldn't be here, standing in the kitchen of his favorite client, who most certainly just murdered his own uncle.

Castiel is currently sleeping, having crashed hard when he came down from his adrenaline high, and Dean is freaking out. He's been pacing the kitchen for ten minutes, trying to figure this out and coming up with nothing.

He's chewed his fingernails down to the quick, a habit he thought he'd outgrown years ago, by the time he decides he has to wake Castiel.

Once he's in the bedroom though, looking down at Castiel's oddly peaceful face, he finds himself suddenly afraid. There's still blood on Castiel's hands, flecked on his face, spilled on his clothes. It's probably on the sheets now.

What's he supposed to do with this? About this? What's he supposed to think? Dean closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and follows his gut.

“Castiel.” He says, jostling the bed slightly. “Wake up.”

“Hmm.” Castiel mumbles into the blankets.

“Cas! Come on, man, wake up. We have to _go_.”

At this, Castiel blinks blearily and sits up. “Go? Where are we going?”

“I don't know! I don't know, okay, but we have to get out of here.”

Castiel looks confused. “Why do we...” He pauses, looks down at himself, and his face goes serious. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Okay. Look, I don't know the details, but someone is going to come looking for you, right? Did anyone see what happened?”

Castiel looks lost, but his brow furrows in thought after a moment. “No one... no one saw. It was... we were in his office.”

Dean experiences a moment of temporary relief before rubbing his hands over his face. “Were there any cameras in the office?”

“I don't think so.” Castiel says slowly. “But... in the hall... definitely.”

“Fuck. Okay. So as soon as they find him and they look at the video feed they're gonna see you coming out of his office covered in blood.”

Castiel lowers his head, looking down at his hands. “I'm sorry.” He whispers. “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

His hands are shaking, Dean can see him tensing all over.

Dean takes a moment to calm himself before climbing onto the bed and taking Castiel's blood-stained hands in his own. “Hey, hey.” He says, softly. “Look at me, alright?” Castiel does, blinking erratically. “I'm with you, okay? I know you're freaking out, so am I. But we have to figure this out fast or something real bad is gonna happen, okay? We just have to figure this out, and then you can fall apart all you want, okay?”

Castiel lets out a shaky breath. “I- I don't know. I don't know if I can-”

“Try?” Dean pleads. “Try for me? Please? That's all I'm asking.”

“I'll try.”

“Okay. How important is your uncle?”

Castiel grimaces. “Fairly. He's head of manufacturing operations.”

“So people come to him a lot?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” Dean spits, realizing that if Zachariah's body hasn't already been found, it will be soon.

“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”

“Do you have anywhere you can go?”

Castiel shakes his head. “There's no-where. Can't get anyone else caught up in this anyway.”

“Fucking shit. Okay, um-”

“Wait.” Castiel interrupts. “Anna.”

“What about Anna?”

“I can- go to her ship?”

“Yes, okay, that's something.” Dean says, a breath of hope washing through him. “Get to her ship, get off-world, get as far away from here as possible. Yeah?”

“O- okay.”

“C'mon, we have to move. You have a suitcase someplace?”

“Closet.” Castiel says, voice hollow.

Dean goes and digs quickly though the closet, yanks out the suitcase, throws it on the bed. “They might put it together, your sister coming to town, you kill your uncle and disappear. You think you'll be safe in that ship?”

“She uses a different last name now.” Castiel tells him.

“But she came here last night. He face is all over the feeds for sure.”

To his surprise, Castiel shakes his head. “She's smarter than she looks.” He says. “She knows how to avoid the feeds.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“Okay, so, come on!” Dean gestures for him to get up. “We have to get you out of here!”

Castiel does get up off the bed, with wooden, halting movements. Instead of going to pack, he moves to Dean, throws his arms around him, and pulls him close. Dean mimics the movement, wrapping his arms around Castiel's middle and letting himself relax for a moment. But then Castiel kisses his jaw, his mouth, deep and wet.

Dean pulls back. “Cas, now isn't really the time for this.” He chastises gently.

Castiel nods, but eyes are filling with tears. “What if I don't see you again?” He blinks rapidly.

This time, Dean initiates the kiss, but it's quick and chaste, if tender. “I'll figure something out.” He says. “What's the name of the ship?”

“I- I don't know.” Castiel looks stricken. “It's a Chang'e class, transport. That's all I know. I- I can find it, I’m sure, but-”

“It's okay.” Dean tells him, pulling away. “We'll figure it out. You get packed. Do you have anything you want from the rest of the apartment?”

Castiel moves dazedly to his closet, but says, “My toothbrush? I don't really... have that much.”

Dean nods, moving quickly to the bathroom and grabbing Castiel's toothbrush and toothpaste, his shampoo, his comb. He rushes back into the bedroom to dump his armful into Castiel's half-full suitcase.

Barely five minutes passes before Castiel is closing his case up, looking solemn.

“Is that all you want to take?” Dean asks, looking around at the apartment. It barely looks like anything was even taken.

Castiel shrugs. “I don't really have that much that I... care about.”

“Okay, let's go.”

He gathers his own things and they slip out of the apartment. They take back ways and employee stairs until they come out into an alleyway behind Castiel's building. From under his arm, Castiel takes a large, wide brimmed hat and settles it over his head. It's a little odd, but doesn't look overly out of place in the piercing evening light.

“What am I going to do?” Castiel asks.

“Get to the ship. Get to your sister. Get as far away as you can.” Dean reminds him.

“But you won't be there.” Castiel whispers.

Dean leans forward and kisses him softly. “We'll figure it out, alright?” He says, aware that he's probably lying. “If you can, find a way to let me know you made it.”

“I'll make it.” Castiel says, voice sure. “What about you? They'll know you were with me tonight.”

Dean waves him off. “I'll tell them you canceled.”

They stand there looking at each other for too long before Dean says, “Go, go!” and Castiel scurries out of the alley. Dean watches him go, feeling like he might throw up.

 

Despite his nonchalant declaration of, “ _I’ll tell them you canceled”_ , Dean knows that if the Alliance actually suspects him in any way, they'll get the truth out of him. Alliance agents are ruthless and unrelenting and, Dean suspects, not adverse to torture.

This situation is bad for him too. Fortunately, he has a plan. He's not sure it'll work, as it's based mostly on speculation, luck, Castiel making it to Anna's ship, and then Anna being smart enough not to take off right away.

It's only about an hour before Dean gets an answer to one of his questions. It comes in the form of a single line of text scrolling across the screen of his holophone.

The machine chirps happily, and when Dean looks up he sees the the message. It's just one line, from an unknown number.

_Letting you know_

Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He's not expecting any more of a confirmation, and he doesn't get any. He watches the news obsessively in the following hours until, sure enough, in the middle of the night, the story breaks.

“Our next story was handed to me moments ago.” Says the reporter on Dean's television screen. “It seems that the regional head of manufacturing operations at Ares Icholades Technologies, Zachariah Adler, has been found deceased in his office. Alliance officers are saying that it _was_ the result of foul play, and they have released this security footage of a man I’m told is Mr. Adler's nephew, Castiel Collins.”

They roll a short, grainy clip of a man, very clearly Castiel, coming out of an office with Zachariah's name painted on the door. He's covered in blood, shaking visibly, and his hands are crackling with magic. Dean's heart gives a worried clench as Castiel stumbles into a wall, and then off camera.

“Collins is still at large.” The reporter continues. “If you have seen this man, he is considered armed and dangerous, and if seen, authorities should be contacted immediately.”

Dean mutes the television and sits back in his chair, considering what to do next. It's only a matter of time before they connect Dean with Castiel, as Castiel has been seeing him at least once a week for months. It's important that Dean gets out of here before the Alliance makes the connection, but hopefully in a way that avoids suspicion.

It's only about ten minutes before there's a knock at his door, and it's Ginger, another Companion, freaking out because she knows that Castiel is a regular customer of Dean's. It's not terribly difficult to fake hysteria, especially since he's at the edge of it already.

After that, it's fairly easy. The next morning he sees the Hiatos Companion board and convinces them that he's having a mental breakdown because he's been sleeping with a murderer, that he's terrified every minute because he's worried that Castiel will try and contact him. And, from there, it's a small step to get them to agree that he'd be better off working off-world on his own.

It's laughably easy, even, and the next thing Dean knows he's loading all his possessions into a car and heading to the docks, wondering how the fuck he's getting away with this.

Finding Anna's ship on the docks is surprisingly easy, it's the only Chang'e in the place, probably the entire planet. Most professional transports are much nicer, flashier, and the Chang'e looks pretty run down. The name “Angel” is panted on the side in peeling white script.

When he pulls up to the ship, Anna is standing in front of the open walk-up, trying to talk passers by into booking, but most of them don't seem interested. If he's being honest, were this simply a voyage for pleasure, there's no way Dean would be booking with the Angel. He can smell the fumes from yards away.

He leaves his bags in the car and approaches Anna, noticing in the soft mid-morning light that she really does look a bit like Castiel. They share many of the same facial features. She's pretty, although where Castiel is soft smiles and kind eyes, she's harsh frowns and piercing glares.

Anna looks up and sees him coming, and he can tell by the pinch between her eyebrows that she recognizes him. She doesn't let on though, just eyes him skeptically as he approaches.

“Good morning!” Dean says cheerfully. “Can ask where your ship is headed?”

Anna blinks at him, but then her face is back to a placid mask. “We're headed to Corokos.” She says. “But we'll be stopping off at Delinse, Adryria, Drora BCM, and Cheery. And the moons Koevis, Cynthia, Taigi, and Shashi.” Her voice has taken on a dry, rehearsed tone. “We'll stay about a day and half to two days at each location to refuel and take on new passengers.”

“And you have room”

“We do.”

Dean gives her his most disarming smile, which doesn't seem to do any good at all. “Well, I'd like to book passage.”

Still grim-faced, Anna pulls a tablet from the pack at her side and starts pressing buttons.

“Full name?”

“Dean Jacob Winchester."

“And where will you be leaving us?”

Dean thinks for a moment, before picking the end destination, simply because it's the furthest away. “Corokos.”

Anna presses a few more buttons. “We have five standard rooms and one two elite suites available. Would you like to hear prices?”

“No need.” Dean says happily. He might send most of his money home, but he still has plenty to spare, and the fare for a ship like this Chang'e wouldn't be even a portion of what he makes in one session of average length. “I'll book an Elite suite.”

“We take payment up front.”

Dean holds out his wrist and lets her scan the chip in his wrist with her tablet, transferring the fare.

Anna gives him one last hard look before reaching up to her ear and pressing a button on her com.

“Jess, we have a fare. Can you come and show him up? Thanks.”

She says nothing more, just looks at him seriously until they're joined by a smiling girl with wavy blond hair.

“Hi!” Says the girl. “I'm Jess! If you'll follow me I'll just show you to your room.”

Dean calls for his driver to bring his things and follows Jess up the walk, and when he looks back over his shoulder at Anna her posture is stiff and she's glaring out at the road.

Inside the Angel, it's clear that this is a re-purposed mining vessel. Everything is very metallic, very rough. There are some paintings and tapestries on the walls, a touch of color, someone obviously trying to class things up. Oddly, it works. It doesn't make everything look clean and nice, but it has a rough, old-world feel to it than many people look for nowadays.

They pass a few other people, obviously passengers, but Dean doesn't see Castiel anywhere. That's good, he has to remind himself, Castiel is in hiding. He forces himself to breathe, to calm down, and to keep the smile plastered to his face.

The suite is nice, not as nice as his apartment at the institute, but nicer than he imagined it would be. It's decorated simply, grey walls covered by a coat of pastel blue paint. There are a few paintings, a bookshelf with a few volumes, and simple but elegant wooden furniture.

Dean's driver brings his things while Jess tells Dean when meals are, and what parts of the ship passengers are allowed on. They're not allowed in the bridge or the engine room, obviously, but there's a kitchen, a dining room, and a lounge for the passengers to sit and mingle.

“Where does the crew sleep?” Dean asks, after Jess has finished her speech.

“The crew's rooms are up by the bridge.” She tells him. “Passengers aren't allowed up there unless it's an emergency. You _can_ always ping me though, I'm here to help!”

“What exactly is your job?” Dean asks, picking up a small statue from the bookshelf to examine it.

“I do whatever needs to be done!” Jess says cheerfully. “I cook the meals, I clean the rooms, I do the laundry, I do wake-up calls, I get anything that needs to be gotten!”

“You do... all of that?” Dean asks skeptically.

Jess sighs, face looking less than than ecstatic for a few moments. “We're a little short-staffed.”

Dean gives her a soft smile. “I promise I'm low maintenance.”

“Jeez, I hope so.” She huffs. “But don't have too many passengers this time, and we're leaving tomorrow, so I should be able to handle it really.”

“I'm sure you'll do fine, dear.” Dean says, patting her on the arm.

Jess laughs and smiles happily at him. “Oh I'm just a worrier.” She admits. “It was good to meet you! Let me know if you need anything!”

She traipses out of the room, and Dean is left very suddenly alone with his thoughts. He takes a deep breath through his mouth and presses his worry down. He's got to stay cool, Castiel is here somewhere. He's safe, Dean is safe, they'll be off-world tomorrow, everything is good. Dean just needs to stay calm.

Well, it's easier said than done. Dean paces his room anxiously, running all of the ways this could go wrong through his head. The worst part is, Dean isn't even sure why this is all bothering him so much, or why he's doing all of this.

Sure, he cares for Castiel. He's come to think of the man as a friend. He likes spending time with Castiel, and alright, the sex is nice. But he has plenty of clients who's company he enjoys, plenty of clients who are pretty good in the sack. But has he ever helped any other clients evade Alliance custody? No. Its never come up before, but he can't think of anyone else he'd help in such a way. And would he willingly leave planet-side for any other clients, partially to evade the Alliance himself, but also because he would really really miss them? Not a chance. So what's different?

Dean is trying to figure it out, and at the same time trying not to think about it at all, and it's eating him up.

So he waits, listening to the sound of voices and footsteps in the hall outside until it gets late, and things quiet. He waits and he waits, not sure exactly what he's waiting for, until he's falling asleep on the couch.

A knock at the door starts him from his impromptu nap, and he sits up quickly, suddenly terrified that it's the law. He waits, very still, until the knock comes again. It's quiet, a gentle rap, then a pause.

Dean watches the door, waiting, until he's sure it's not the Alliance. Feds don't knock like that.

Dean gets to his feet and goes swiftly to the door and, after a moment of hesitation, cracks it open.

The figure in the hall is bathed in shadow, wearing a hood, but there's no mistaking him.

Dean swings the door the rest of the way open. “Cas!” He cries.

“Shh.” Castiel hushes him, sweeping into the room and closing the door behind him. He pushes back his hood and beams at Dean. “You're here!” He says, throwing his arms around the other man. “What are you doing here?”

“Figured it was a good time for a vacation.” Dean jokes.

Castiel squeezes tight. “I'm glad you're here.”

Dean sighs and lets his arms drape around Castiel's waist. “Me too.”

“So what's your plan?” Castiel asks, head against Dean's chest.

Dean shakes his head, unable to admit how large a part of his leaving was motivated by the thought of never seeing Castiel again. “Just wanted to get as far away as possible before the Alliance got a hold of me. Wasn't really thinking very far ahead, I guess.”

“I'm so sorry.” Castiel says, looking suddenly ashamed. “I didn't- I wasn't thinking. When it happened. I didn't think. And now i've messed everything up. My life and yours and-”

Dean reaches out and puts a hand on Castiel's shoulder to silence him. “I don't know what happened.” He says. “But I've always wanted to travel. I would have left either way.”

“Anna thinks you're a spy.” Castiel admits, turning to sit down on the small couch. “She thinks you're here to follow me and report my whereabouts to the Alliance.”

Dean frowns.

“She doesn't know you.” Castiel explains.

“She's looking out for you.” Dean says. “It's what siblings do.”

Castiel nods. “She _is_ looking out for me.”

There's a long silence and Dean asks, finally, “What the fuck happened, Cas?”

Castiel looks down at his hands, folded on his lap. He wets his lips. “I...” He stops, takes a breath, and starts again. “I went to see him. It was stupid- so stupid, but I wanted to know. I had to- I asked him about it, about what he did to Anna. He said he didn't know what I was talking about, called her a whore, said something about having my job if I started spreading rumors- I don't really remember all of it, honestly. I just- I just lost it.” He purses his lips. “I started hitting him and then... my magic started coming out and I couldn't stop it. Maybe... maybe I didn't want to. But then I just... then he was just dead. I don't know. I don't know.”

Dean, who has been standing this whole time, moves to sit next to Castiel. The reality is horrible, and not a little scary. His friend lost control and killed someone. Regardless of whether or not he meant to, whether or not the dead man deserved it, someone is _dead_.

“How are you doing?” Dean wonders, looping his hand around Castiel's waist.

“Well I'm a murderer and I'm on the run from the law, so not great.” Castiel says dryly.

“Yeah.” Dean agrees. He's not sure what else to say, what else to do. There's nothing that can make this better, or erase the things that have happened. One thing he's sure of though, Castiel doesn't deserve Alliance imprisonment.

“We'll be alright.” Dean gives Castiel's side a squeeze. “We'll figure it out.”

Castiel closes his eyes and leans his head against Dean's shoulder, letting himself relax.

“I fuck everything up.” Castiel whispers. “Every time things are going okay, I do something and...” He trails off.

Dean says nothing, but turns his head to press a gentle kiss to Castiel's forehead.

They stay this way for a while, basking in companionable silence, both thinking of the mistakes and choices that have let them to this point.

“Anna is furious.” Castiel says after a long while. “She says I let my emotions get the better of me.”

“She's not wrong.” Dean admits.

Castiel sighs. “She's really not. It's one of my most glaring faults.”

Dean pats his shoulder. “We'll work on it.”

“Okay.” Says Castiel, pressing his nose into Dean's neck.

He leaves soon afterward, sneaking off through the halls like a phantom, and Dean falls into an uneasy sleep.

 

-o-

 

Castiel isn't at breakfast the next morning, still laying low, but Dean meets the rest of the passengers and crew.

The captain is a man named Benny Lafitte, large, with a bushy beard and arms like small trees. His first mate is a steely-eyed blonde woman with a swishy ponytail called Jo Harvelle. Megan Masters has short, dark hair and a sharp smile and it terrifies Dean that she pilots this whole thing. Jess is there, looking sweet and soft-faced. Claire Novak, with a thick ring of eyeliner and a constant frown, seems to have been raised by wolves, but is apparently the best mechanic to be found this side of the Ipidos Belt. Castiel's sister Anna is head of PR, and she's going by “Milton” now instead of Collins. She glares at Dean across the table until he wants to crawl out of his skin. There are four more people on staff, and Dean can't figure out what it is that they do, which is odd because there are obvious holes in staffing, for instance there's no full-time cook or cleaners on board. The unexplained staff consists of Ruby Rhodes, who never has a nice word in her mouth; Rufus Turner, a quiet, sullen older man; Ashley Widdins, the only man in the galaxy with a mullet; Kevin Tran, who talks a lot but not about anything Dean understands.

The other paying passengers are the standard fare, a few families, a few lone businessmen, no one of interest.

Dean dresses plainly for the meal and no one seems to realize he's a Companion, which is nice as he doesn't think he can stomach the barrage of questions just now. He realizes quickly however that being treated the same as everyone else has its downsides. The food, mainly.

Dean will be the first to admit that these past years in the core have left him a little spoiled in some ways. He's had to work hard, sure, he's had to learn a lot and do a lot of things he'd rather not. Through all of it though, the food here has been plentiful as well as delicious.

Now, he looks down at the low-grade protein substitutes on his plate and works to keep his face neutral. Out on the Rim he'd eaten shitty protein all the time, almost every meal, and he always thought it was fine. But now it reminds him of dirt. It tastes like he's eating dirt.

Beside him, Claire snorts, picking up on his distaste for the meal.

“What're you, rich or somethin'?” She guesses. “Better get used to it, hotshot, this is what us “normals” eat.”

“No it's... fine.” Dean lies unconvincingly.

“ _Right_.” Claire rolls her eyes, unconvinced. She squints at him, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “You on the run or somethin'?

“Excuse me?” Says Dean.

“You don't want anyone to know you're rich.” She whispers. “So either you're worried about being robbed by grandma over there,” she nods toward an elderly woman across the table, “Or you got somethin' to hide.” She raises her eyebrows, waiting.

“I'm not rich.” Dean tries to convince her, keeping his voice low as well. “I'm just...” He tries to think of an explanation that makes sense, and finally settles on the some of the truth. “I'm... a Companion.” He says.

Claire sits up straight, eyes wide. “No shit?” She says, loud enough that several other people look their way.

“Heh, yeah.” Dean says cautiously. “But it's not something I want known publicly right now, so if you could keep this between us...”

“Oh, yeah! No, totally! Yeah!” Claire nods excitedly. She has that look in her eye, the one Dean was trying to avoid. Starstruck. She'll be asking questions later.

Dean sighs internally, thinking that at least _everyone_ doesn't know.

Dean spends the rest of the meal avoiding Anna's lazerbeam glare, answering Claire's questions as quietly as possible, and pretending that the protein mush doesn't absolutely disgust him. It's hard work and he's absolutely exhausted by the end of it.

Finally, after breakfast, the captain announces that they'll be leaving planet-side in about twenty minutes. He says that breaking atmo can be a little rough, and everyone should find somewhere to sit down. Dean makes his way back to his room before Claire can corner him, and flops down onto his bed. He just wants to be out of here. He wants to be out of orbit, as far away as possible. Maybe once they leave atmo this knot of anxious nerves in his belly will unravel.

He closes his eyes and starts taking deep breaths, but all of a sudden the ship's thrusters power on, and his stomach gives an uncomfortable leap.

“Alright, we're taking off.” Comes the Captain's slow drawl over the ship's speaker system. “Brace for minor turbulence.”

The ship rocks, bumps, and sways. Dean remembers vividly the first time his stomach felt the lurch brought on by suddenly changing altitudes. He'd been so young then, so scared boarding a giant cruiser all by himself with just the pack on his back and his family's savings in his pocket. It wasn't an easy trip, but it's not one that Dean can ever bring himself to regret.

Now it doesn't bother him so much, but it's still been a long time since he's been off-planet. It's an exhilarating feeling.

He's jolted out of his reminiscing by a knock at the door. He gets to his feet, keeping them planted firmly as the world rocks around him. It's slow going, but eventually he gets to the door.

Castiel is on the other side, looking tired.

“Come in, quick.” Dean urges, poking his head out into the hallway to make sure no one saw Castiel skulking around.

“No one saw me.” Castiel promises. “And anyway we'll be out of atmo soon anyway, and then it won't matter so much.”

Dean pulls Castiel into his room. He doesn't say what he's thinking, that Castiel will still have to be very cautious even after they leave atmo. He's always going to have to hide. Dean knows it, and Castiel probably knows it too, so Dean doesn't say it.

He pulls Castiel close to him, he kisses him on the forehead, on the mouth. Together they tumble onto Dean's bed to ride out the turbulence in each other's arms.


End file.
